


Too Late

by ladyoneill



Series: Shadows Of The Moon: Full Moon Ficlets [35]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 05:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's too soon and Peter promised, but a wolf's intent can override a human mate's desires.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Late

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the fullmoon_ficlet prompt "Late". I should have posted this last weekend but I was being lazy so today you get three!

"I would say I'm late, but I'm not a fucking woman," Stiles snarls as he throws the report from Deaton in his mate's face.

Calmly Peter picks it up off the floor and read the results. He doesn't look at all surprised. Of course he's not. He's probably known for weeks, been listening to its heartbeat while Stiles sleeps, like the creeper he still is.

"You promised we'd wait three or four years between kids, Peter. You promised! I'm a month away from high school graduation. Lily was born less than a year ago."

"Quiet down. You're going to wake her." There's an edge to Peter's voice as he rises from the couch, and Stiles skitters back from him.

"Fuck you, Peter. You promised. You said intent was needed. You said you'd ask. You...didn't ask." Voice breaking, tears threatening, Stiles turns and runs for the front door, but Peter's there to stop him.

He's always fucking there.

Focus shot, Stiles still manages to get a magic backed punch off, but Peter pulls back so it lands on his shoulder, not his chin, and then he's pinning Stiles to the door, hands hard on his upper arms, one leg jammed between his kicking ones. Red eyes bore into him and Stiles shudders and helplessly submits, baring his throat.

His teeth still human, Peter's bite barely breaks skin, and Stiles whimpers as the mate bond between them flares white gold behind his tear-filled eyes. "Calm down, Stiles," he soothes, his hands gentling and stroking Stiles' shaking shoulders.

"Why didn't you ask?" he wails softly, finally crying, and Peter wraps himself around him.

"Darling, intent is needed, yes, but accidents do happen. It wasn't planned."

An Emissary can sometimes hear the truth in his Alpha's voice, and Peter's not lying. The tears dry up, and Stiles sniffles into his shoulder, then lets himself be guided back to the couch.

"How?" he asks as they curl together, the anger drained from him, the familiar weariness weighing him down into Peter's arms, his head on his chest.

"I...I suppose one night my wolf decided it wanted another cub. It wasn't a conscious decision on my part. I don't remember it happening. I would have waited and we would have talked about it before having another, Stiles, I didn't lie about that."

"My body's barely recovered from Lily." The thought of another eight months or so of exhaustion and sickness and getting huge and heavy...it's just too soon. He's not ready. And his plans to attend the community college in the next county are shot to Hell as well. He feels like he's going to be barefoot and pregnant the rest of his life.

"We...we can stop it."

At Peter's soft, dully spoken words, Stiles jerks away from him in shock, and his hands go to his flat stomach where there are stretch marks and a scar and will be again. "No." He doesn't want another kid so soon, but he's not getting rid of it. Just the thought is abhorrent. Remembering how he felt when he finally accepted Lily growing inside him, and knowing how he'll feel if he aborts this child...how that loss will affect him... "No, Peter. I'm not thrilled, but I would never do that. I seem to get pregnant easily enough but we got so damn lucky with Lily. You know the odds are 50/50 I'll miscarry, and Deaton says by the time I reach thirty, it may be too difficult to carry to term. Maybe...maybe your wolf knew what it was doing," he adds sadly. "It's done. It's too late."

Leaning close, Peter brushes his lips over Stiles' forehead then his cheek before pressing them to his own. 

Stiles kisses him back because what else is he going to do?

End


End file.
